The Flower Girl
by luluhrh
Summary: In her father's new life, Annabeth was just a flower girl; not important, just part of the procession leading up to the bride. One-shot for now. K because there is no language. If continued, rating may change.
1. The Wedding

**Hey! I'm here!**

**Ready? I don't own PJO.**

**Enjoy!**

**And now I'm gone...**

**Third Person Limited (Annabeth)**

The church was packed to the brim with people. Family, friends, everyone. Kids, too. Even a few Annabeth's age. Not that she'd really get to talk to them.

There were only three kids Annabeth had talked to: Leanne, a girl slightly older than her who insisted that being a flower girl was "so cool" and that she, Leanne, was jealous; Elissa, a girl older by four years, who fake pitied her for having to be a flower girl in the wedding of her father and her "evil stepmother;" and Brian, who seemed to think that he was going to his aunt's cousin's son's bar mitzvah.

Truthfully, Annabeth didn't know what to think. Helen wasn't especially mean, and she made Annabeth's father happy, but she didn't really show Annabeth much emotion. Not real emotion, anyway.

The wedding ceremony was about to start. The other three flower girls were Lacey, Morgan, and Willow. Willow was the oldest at seven, then Morgan at six. Lacey was the youngest at three and a half. Annabeth was four and a half **(A/N: Don't know when her father remarries, just go with it)** and the only flower girl who wasn't part of Helen's family. Willow was Helen's cousin's daughter, Morgan was her brother's daughter, and Lacey was her sister's youngest child. Annabeth couldn't help but feel out-of-place, even surrounded by family members, each of whom commented on how _lovely_ she looked in her lilac dress, on what an _angel_ she was holding that _darling_ little basket of flower petals, and spoke of how her pretty blonde curls made her look _just_ like a princess. The chatter wore her down. She couldn't wait to get it over and done with. She hadn't asked for this wedding. Helen had wanted her to be a flower girl, so her father agreed, naturally. Everything Helen wanted, Helen got.

Everyone was getting into place. Helen looked beautiful, her highlighted hair shining in its elegant bun, her one shoulder dress hanging off her slender frame perfectly, the shimmery fabric glowing softly, even as she fidgeted nervously.

Annabeth suddenly wanted nothing more than to run and hide. Her father was getting married. He was officially moving on.

He had once told Annabeth, "Your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me. She was smart, she was beautiful, she knew what she was doing. She was extraordinary. I loved her."

Had he forgotten? Because now, all he talked about was Helen, and how pretty and smart and calm and balanced and perfect and _ordinary_ she was, and how that was exactly what he need when dealing with a child like Annabeth. It was like he had never met Annabeth's mother, like she had never existed, like she was nothing to him anymore. He acted like _Annabeth_ was nothing to him.

"When you came to me, I wanted her to take you back," he muttered under his breath after Annabeth had broken one of his figurines. "This is what children do. And a child like you... well, you were bound to be trouble." He never knew that Annabeth had heard. He never said it to her face. But Annabeth understood. He hadn't wanted her.

The music started. The doors opened. Annabeth and the other flower girls started down the aisle, spreading their petals. Then came the bridesmaids, followed by Helen on her father's arm.

Afterwards, everyone remarked on how beautiful the ceremony was, and how happy they would be. Annabeth only remembered her father's face as they all walked down the aisle. He had seen Annabeth. He had met her eyes. He had smiled lightly at her. Then his gaze moved to Helen, and that's when he really smiled. Like he had loved Annabeth and her mother once, but he had moved on, just as his gaze had, onto Helen, and he loved her so much more than he would ever love Annabeth and her mother. They were a trial, and a faulty one. Helen was better.

During the wedding, Annabeth had the urge to run. She didn't, though. She waited until the reception. Then she walked over and sat in a corner, glaring at anyone who dared try and bother her.

Only one woman succeeded in disturbing her. "You were the other flower girl!" she said, holding Lacey by the hand. Helen's sister, Lauren. "You were adorable! How are you related to Frederick, again?"

Annabeth felt the color drain from her face. They didn't even know. "He's my father," she said quietly. _Not to them,_ she thought. _To them, I was just a flower girl. Not the daughter of the groom. Just part of the procession, leading up to the real star of his life; Helen. His bride._

Lauren smiled. "Oh, of course! You have his hair, you know."

Annabeth did know. She didn't respond to Lauren, however, deciding that something that obvious didn't deserve a response.

Lauren frowned at Annabeth's lack of response. "Well, good-bye, then."

Annabeth didn't respond.

Later, she heard Lauren tell Helen about their conversation. "Such a rude child," she whispered. "Good luck with her."

Helen nodded. Her eyes bored into Annabeth's hair. Annabeth could almost sense it. She was sure that Helen would tell Annabeth's father of Lauren's complaint, and Annabeth would surely be scolded for being so "rude" to her new aunt.

Annabeth didn't care. Her father didn't care for her, so why she should she care for his new family, his _real_ family. Because Annabeth was just the flower girl. She wasn't part of his new family.

Annabeth could see clearly, as though watching a movie, what would happen in the future. Helen would have her father's children. These children would be wonderful, perfect, ordinary angels, because their mother was a perfect, ordinary woman of an angel. They wouldn't be like Annabeth, who attracted trouble everywhere she went. Like Annabeth, who he once called extraordinary and now called a pain. Like Annabeth, whose mother was special, but not as special as Helen, not as normal as Helen. Because Frederick Chase had had it with extraordinary. Athena (for that was Annabeth's mother's name) had been enough extraordinary for him. Annabeth was too much. Now Frederick Chase needed normal.

And in his new life, Annabeth would be part of the scenery. Not the leading woman, just a girl in a supporting role. Not his daughter, just the other flower girl.

Just the flower girl.

**I loved this idea. I loved the idea of Annabeth being a flower girl being a metaphor for how her father had focused on a new part of his life, the bride, and she was just part of the procession leading up to the bride. And how no one in Helen's family knew that the flower girl who wasn't part of their clan was Frederick's daughter. How she was just another part of the procession, not _their_ family. It just touched me in a way, and all I can think is, "Wow, she's deep for a four-year-old."**

**Yep. I definitely have my priorities in order, don't I?**

**So there! I am done.**

**Love ya! lulu**


	2. The Newborns

**Okay, so everyone, and I mean EVERYONE wants me to continue this story, so I shall!**

**This is a year or so later. Annabeth's younger brothers are being born! YIPPEE! But is she excited? Let's find out in the...**

**Disclaimer:**** No, she's not excited. Also, I don't own Annabeth, or her stepmom, or her brothers, or her father, or PJO.**

**Now, enjoy the show! Story. Show, story, whatever.**

**Third Person Limited (Annabeth)**

The hospital was a cold white place filled with human emotion. Happiness, sadness, anxiety, horror. And numbness. Eventually in all came to numbness. Numb with happiness, numb with sadness, numb with anxiety, numb with horror. Whatever the emotion was, it was accompanied by that numbness. And whatever the feeling was, that absence of feeling made it worse. Even the happiness.

And sometimes, it was just emptiness. The emptiness came with numbness, too, but it was the worst kind of numbness. Without another feeling to keep it at bay, the sensation of not feeling traveled everywhere, until a person was only dimly aware of pacing the floors, or polishing glasses, or simply doing nothing at all.

Annabeth Chase was empty.

Her father was gripped with anxiety. His wife- not Annabeth's stepmother, just his wife- was going into labor, giving birth to his sons. Just a few walls separated him from the love of his life, and he couldn't break them down to be by her side, to comfort her.

And Annabeth Chase was empty.

She should have been excited and anxious, waiting for the doctor, the nurse, SOMEONE to come and tell her and her father that Helen was all right, that the babies were all right, that they could stop worrying and rejoice. She wasn't. All she could feel was... nothingness. Emptiness.

Her half-brothers. It didn't feel right.

Just under one years ago, the first monster attack had come. There had been monsters before that, but no real attacks. Helen had been terrified. Frederick was finally forced to tell his wife and child the truth about Athena. He had been in love with a goddess. Annabeth couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly love Helen more.

And now there were children. Her brothers. No, it didn't feel right. Love was supposed to be forever.

But this didn't sadden Annabeth. It merely added to her emptiness. It wasn't even much of a revelation, either. Annabeth had come to terms with her place in her "family" when Helen and her father got married.

Just the flower girl. Then and now. And that would never change.

Frederick was pacing, wearing the soles of his shoes thin. He barely managed to glance at Annabeth, barely managed a reassuring smile, before he was back to worrying about the main part of his life; Helen. And soon, two boys. Two charming little angels. _Normal_ little angels. Because Annabeth was once a charming little angel, too. But she was never normal. And now, she wasn't even abnormal. She was just a bystander as the main man worried about the leading woman.

Just the flower girl. Just part of the procession. Never the lead role.

The doctor came out of the room, a smile on his weary face.

"You have two healthy little boys, Mr. Chase," the man said.

Frederick let out a happy sigh. "And Helen?"

"She's as healthy as they are."

Annabeth's father smiled. "May I see them?"

"Of course."

Frederick nodded gratefully at the doctor, them went into the room the doctor had just exited.

Annabeth made to follow.

The doctor gave her a quizzical look. "Are you family?"

Annabeth nodded. The doctor smiled and let her pass.

Even the doctors didn't recognize her as part of her own family.

Just the flower girl.

Inside, Helen held two bundles of blankets in her arms. The bundles had tufts of dark hair sticking out of them.

"We have twins," Helen whispered. "I want one of them to be named Robert."

Annabeth's father smiled. "Bobby. Like your father. And... Matthew?"

Helen nodded, her eyes shining with tears of happiness. "Bobby and Matthew."

The room was so full of gladness, Annabeth doubted anyone could feel the cold numbness in the room besides her. The white walls exuding the cold, the cold leeching away at the joy, at the emptiness that still resided inside her.

"Here, Annabeth," Helen said. She handed Annabeth one of the children. "Hold Bobby for a minute, would you?"

Not, _Annabeth, hold your brother._ Just "hold Bobby." She was like an attendant, a nurse that no one needed to pay attention to. "Hold Bobby for a minute."

As she held her half-brother, Annabeth did not feel that rush of affection that everyone described when they first held a newborn. There was just detachment. Here was one more person who would consider her to be different from them. One more person to be part of play, but in main roles. They were with the bride as she walked down the aisle, and Annabeth was still just part of the procession leading up to them.

Still just the flower girl. Even to babies.

As they took Bobby and Matthew home for the first time, Annabeth could only manage to think one thing.

_Even to newborns, I'm still just the flower girl._

**Okay, that's another one done!**

**In case anyone was wondering or hadn't figured it out, Annabeth is probably around five and a half, five and three quarters, something like that.**

**I liked this chapter, too! Even with babies, she's still just the flower girl...**

**Oh, and the word of the day is El Nino (?) (the second N is actually supposed to have the squiggle thing over it, but I couldn't figure out how to do that... heh... I failed). Look it up, it's weird.**

**Love ya! lulu**


	3. The Runaway

**Yes! Last chapter! This is it. The Flower Girl is coming to a close.**

**Now, Annabeth is seven years old. She's going to run away very, very soon...**

**Third Person Limited (Annabeth)**

Two and a half years.

Two and a half years since Annabeth Chase realized how small the role she played in her family was.

Two and a half years since her father, Frederick Chase, married Helen, a pretty Asian-American woman who was _normal_, unlike Annabeth's mother, the goddess Athena.

Two and a half years since her father decided that he was done with extraordinary.

Two and a half years since he started a new life.

And Annabeth's part in that life was to be part of the supporting cast. Someone who led to the main scene, but was not important.

With the monsters attacking, putting her father, Helen, and their children, Bobby and Matthew, in jeopardy, no one had any time for Annabeth except to be angry with her. She who was abnormal. She whose elusive half-blood scent made all monsters nearby find her and attack her. And her father didn't care for his daughter, who could be killed at any time. No, he cared only for his normal family. If Annabeth died, they would be safe. After all, they were his present and she was the past. Not even necessarily his past. Just past. Gone. Part of the procession. Just a flower girl.

The spiders didn't help. At night, they would come, biting and spinning, pincers tearing into skin, hurting, clawing away at the daughter of their enemy.

But the bites faded within seconds, leaving new skin to mark.

And when the footsteps of her stepmother shook the floor, the spiders retreated, leaving Annabeth alone, covered in webs, entrapped in blankets, kicking and screaming for the invisible spiders to leave her alone.

Helen would calm her down, then scold her for waking and scaring her brothers. The webs were a clever trick, a grab for attention, and Annabeth was nothing if not clever. She had to stop pretending that the spiders were hurting her. It was just a nightmare, if that.

Her father was never there. Even if he was, Annabeth was sure he would take Helen's side.

Annabeth hated to act like a brat, but it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Bobby and Matthew got all the good attention while all she got was the scolding and the anger. It wasn't fair that they blamed her for being a demigod. Blame her father for hooking up with Athena!

It wasn't fair.

But then, it never had been. Annabeth had accepted that long ago. She was just a bystander, even in her own family, even in her own life.

But this was the last time.

The spiders had come. They had snapped and bit as usual. Annabeth had screamed. Helen had come. Helen had been angry. All had been normal.

Then Helen left the room. Left a tear-streaked Annabeth alone in her dark, cold, empty, numb room.

And Annabeth, she who was the bystander, the supporting character, the flower girl, packed a bag. She put in food and water, and a hammer for monster attacks.

Seven year old Annabeth Chase left the house she'd lived in all her life and set out to find a new adventure, a new family, a new life. So that maybe, this time, _she'd_ be the main character for once. Instead of just being part of the procession, one day, she'd be the bride.

Never again would she be the flower girl. Never again.

_ #$%^&*!_

Hidden behind a thin sheet of metal lay Annabeth Chase. She was out of food and running out of water. Her hair was in disarray. Beyond the tin lay monsters. That's all she knew.

"Something down there," one whispered. "I sense it."

Monsters. They sensed. They knew. They were monsters.

The tin quivered as Annabeth trembled in fear. _No! Now they know for sure._

The tin lifted, and Annabeth attacked.

Two people stood there. One was a girl with spiky black hair, bright blue eyes, and a scary shield. The other was a boy with blonde hair and blue eyes.

Little did Annabeth know that she was looking at the faces of her new life.

"Whoa! Thalia, put up your shield, you're scaring her."

The girl, Thalia, did so, then whispered something reassuring to Annabeth.

"No more monsters!

"Shh! Don't worry. I'm Luke, this is Thalia."

"Monsters!"

"No, but we fight them, too."

Slowly, Annabeth began to realize that they were telling the truth.

"You're like me?" she asked suspiciously.

Luke nodded, smiling softly.

Then Luke offered to be Annabeth's new family. To be her new life. To be what she had always wanted.

And he gave her a knife.

"This is a real monster-fighting weapon."

It was beautiful. Bronze, obviously. Sharp.

"Knives are only for the quickest, cleverest fighters. I get the feeling you're pretty clever."

Annabeth smiled at him. He knew what he was talking about. "I am!"

And Luke promised he'd never hurt her. He promised he'd never leave. He promised she'd always be his leading lady. Never a flower girl, always the bride.

And Annabeth accepted. She believed him.

Not a flower girl anymore. Never a flower girl again.

Always the bride.

**And that's the end!**

**Did I do well?**

**Sorry about the conversation at the end. I couldn't remember what book it was from... so I just kind of improvised. Hope it's okay!**

**It's done! Wow. Kind of hard to believe. I really enjoyed writing this story, and now it's done... I'm kind of happy and sad. *sigh* What a bittersweet moment.**

**Gods, I'm melodramatic. Sorry.**

**Anyway, I think I kind of have to go now...**

**BAFFLEGAB! Heh, I like that. Look it up if you want, but really it's just fun to say!**

**Love ya! lulu**

**P.S. It's 12:43 on a school night. Do you know where your children are? Cuz my parents sure don't!**


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